The silly season must have started a week early. Here we are, the tip of our collective toes only just dipping into August, and already we have a bare buttock of a summer sex scandal. Were it not for the voice of Middle England having perfected pantomime moral outrage, Sven and the PA would be no more than idle chit-chat for those in the know. Instead, it threatens a career at the top of this country's most ridiculously overpaid business.

Given the obvious appeal of Faria Alam to more than one of her superiors at the Football Association (to avoid confusion, FA will refer to the latter rather than the former), it would be foolhardy as well as hypocritical to sack anyone for enjoying her company out of office hours.

The England coach should perhaps have learnt from his previous experiences that no affair, or affairs, can be conducted without the press catching wind of it - but a man shagging around, married or otherwise, is hardly news. What seems to be the problem in this instance is that the FA has agreed to pay Sven-Göran Eriksson an outrageous amount of money for a job that does not keep him busy enough to stop chatting up every attractive woman who crosses his path.

Doubts have been building about Eriksson's creativity and speed of thought as a manager, but the Swede made sure he had signed on the dotted line before England performed at Euro 2004. He is no mug. Cashing in on the pre-tournament hype and the general mood of confidence, he may have been unsurprised that England duly failed to exceed expectations.

Eriksson could have stayed silent during the past few days, but, when he realised the FA had made itself look stupid and was trying to blame him, he was bright enough to issue a statement making it clear that he neither 'categorically confirmed nor denied a relationship' with the other FA.

What we may have here is a typically continental confusion. The words have not been mixed up, but the meaning has. In most European countries, an affair would not be talked about at all, let alone be the subject of a press release. Eriksson would have made no comment, or he may have laughed at being asked about his private life, believing it to have no relevance to his job.

He is right, of course, but the FA (the one he is in bed with to the tune of £14 million, but does not sleep with) thought the best line of attack was defence. It sounds like Eriksson's approach on the pitch and everyone knows that doesn't work. If the FA now thinks that it can get rid of Eriksson without paying him a huge compensation cheque, it could get into even further trouble.

Eriksson is a man full of surprises. For one thing, how does he enjoy such spectacular success with women when he looks, as Frank Skinner once commented, as if he should be a chemist? And how come he is so conventional in his approach to football and so willing to take risks off it?

Having been reduced to a blushing fool incapable of coherent conversation by Eriksson's unerring gaze, I can testify to his charm. He may look like a boring businessman in a grey suit, with all the sex appeal of cold custard, but his intensity and his manners suggest there is more to discover if one only had the chance to know him. He is the male equivalent of the mousy-looking secretary who takes off her glasses and makes off with the leading man.

Eriksson is not alone: I have never met John Major, but many women say that he, too, has a way of making you feel as if he has never spoken to anyone so interesting before, of being unthreatening, not remotely lecherous and strangely attractive. They could no doubt swap some decent stories and some would argue that Eriksson is the more conservative in his approach to work.

The difference is that Eriksson is neither married nor has he ever been close to being prime minister. While some may say his libido does not become a person in a position of responsibility over younger people, his encounters allow him to counsel his players with the benefit of experience.

The more precarious problem lies with the woman scorned. Eriksson's current problems will seem as nothing compared to the day when Nancy tells her side of the story. Having kept a diary throughout their relationship, Dell'Olio has a tale to tell. Eriksson's views on his players, his bosses, his approach to team selection and his thoughts on Premiership managers are all in danger of being aired in public.

It will make explosive reading from a woman not short of a brain cell or three.

Adam Crozier, former boss of the FA, must be relieved not to have to deal with this mess. How is anyone going to get out of this one without scorch marks on their backsides? Eriksson can't be sacked for messing around with the PA, because Mark Palios and A.N. Other have been at it, too; he did not deliberately mislead them by denying the affair, he just brushed it off; his ex-partner is a loose cannon waiting to explode; and, most importantly, he is going to cost a fortune whether he stays in the job or not.

The FA has not been terribly clever in its handling of the situation. It might have been sensible to issue a 'no comment' to any story that related to personal relationships. That way, there is never the danger of being made to look foolish by a man whose trousers need a belt and braces to keep them up. It would also have been wise not to have drawn up a hugely expensive contract that is not performance-linked.

As for Eriksson, he still may not be any great shakes as a manager but that is the FA's problem, more than his.